she smoked, columbian gold, in the belly of the cougar, pledged allegiance to no mans flag, so beautiful thought I, as the milky way, took me on a journey, beyond reality, but who am I, to think such thoughts, just a poet? searching for a pulpit, a preacher without a cause, a prophet, thoughts frozen under the weight of reality, insanity, dispels the ink, touches the soul, keeps me sane, all in the name of the pen, the tears flow free, as I walk away, smiling, refusing to kiss, her corpse.